The Alpha's Daydream

I can’t explain why, but I run.

I turn and run like a pathetically frightened girl who can’t stand up under the gaze of such an intimidating wolf. For he as he watched me, I felt the power radiate from him and it nearly made my lungs burst for breath. His scent of toasted chestnuts was captivating, but I am cowardly and weak. I never expected this time to be any different, but perhaps I had hoped it would be. Perhaps his scent spoke to me in different ways than the icy fear that wrapped around me last time. I am unsure whether I should’ve felt safe with him, or scared in the way I fear dark shadows.

It is too late now to find out, as I reach my home and find my mom making lunch in the kitchen. She looks at me as I stumble inside, and immediately orders me to sit down and drink a glass of water. Maybe she can see me the way I feel, with blood drained from my face and my lips barely sucking in enough air to sustain me.

“Honey, are you okay?” she asks while brushing my hair out of my eyes.

I clutch the glass tightly, glaring at it and willing my pulse to calm down. “Yeah, sure.” I don’t know if it’s a lie or a hope.

She leaves me to myself the rest of the day, for which I’m thankful for. She’s used to my behaviour and moods that change like the seasons. I hear her whisper concerns to Dad when he gets home, but besides an extra tight hug before bed, they don’t treat me any differently. They know I will bounce back from whatever is plaguing me. I always have in the past. We all go through our dark moments, and they figured out long ago that I prefer to process things on my own.

What they don’t know is that I’m not alone in this, not anymore. Every night those eyes haunt my dreams. Sometimes bright and smiling with a hazy background of forest and meadow; sometimes dark and pleading as night falls around him, death clutching his shoulders and asking for his life.

Everyday I walk through the northern forests, careful of the boundary between our territories, and snatch glimpses of him lurking in the trees; or as I sit in my meadow, overlooking the valley as the golden hues of sunlight drench the land, I watch him standing on the bluff, observing me from afar.

I don’t know what he wants, and he never crosses the border to tell me. I am never brave enough to get up close and see for myself why his scent infuses into my very soul and calls to my wolf. I sense a darkness in him, and it pains me. I feel for him so deeply, as if I am supposed to mean something to him, but I cannot describe what. He is just another wolf, just a wandering soul who dares not cross his border. He is a stranger, and I have knowledge of him that cannot be real.

Once at night, I caught a trace of his scent wafting through my window, but when I looked out there was no one there. There’s no way he would’ve risked my Alpha’s wrath by crossing, would he?

I try to forget about him, but my wolf grows impatient. As I’m running through my peaceful forests I feel the weight on my heart, squeezing with curiosity and an itch to know. Even Gabby and Luci say I should woman up and face whatever is bothering me head on. I haven’t given them exact details, but they guessed from stolen peeks at my book that I’ve seen him, in my dreams and real life. I think they are more curious than me, but as I pant and place one paw in front of the other on the leafy trail, I begin to doubt that. I look up, and suddenly realise where I am.

“It’s you.”

The soft voice startles me, the cold stream leaving my paws wet as I splash to the other side, and I jump as his shadow looms over me.

I quickly shift as his feet advance towards me, and I’d back away if it wasn’t for the overwhelming compulsion to remain in place. He is here, right in front of me, his eyes of crystal blue staring at me intently as the breeze lightly brushes his fringe across his eyebrows. The black coat he wears and equally black trousers serve only to illuminate his eyes and define his perfectly sculpted facial features. He is young, perhaps not much older than me.

In a tentative motion, I too step forward, and all else fades as this awareness of his proximity engulfs my senses. There is a shadow crouched in his eyes, a hesitancy that scares me. Why would he be scared of me? I can almost feel the darkness seeping from his body, the same as the first night when I saw the inky blackness swirl around his solitary figure. It sets my heart pounding and my palms growing clammy. There is a torment in his eyes and entire posture that warns me of dangerous things.

But there is also a lightness, a purity that dances across his features as his full lips lift in a subtle smile. The way his gaze caresses me makes me feel beautiful and perfectly safe standing here, this close to a stranger who I really know nothing about.

So why do I feel like I’ve known him all my life? Why is my wolf prancing about, wanting to touch and be touched by this magnificent male?

I don’t understand this feeling that I have never experienced before.

I reach out a hand at the same moment he does, and as we sink deeper into each other’s eyes, a silent agreement passes between us. Lifting my hand, I touch his face, and feel his own fingers on mine.

I gasp, aware of the sparks that jump from my skin to his. I’m more aware of them than anything I have ever felt in my life. All of a sudden this feeling rushes in, filling crevices and cracks in my heart I’ve spent my life trying to ignore. Yet here he is, showing me my loneliness, yet making me feel as if I belong.

Belong to him.

What does it mean? My breathing is shallow as I gasp for air, and I take a step back before turning and moving back towards the stream, towards everything familiar and safe.

“Wait.”

The single word arrests me, one foot in mid-air while the other rests in icy water. It is spoken firmly with a command, but also a hint of uncertainty, almost as if he’d be crushed if I didn’t obey. I feel his warm breath hitting the skin on my neck, causing goosebumps to rise and heat to flush my face.

“Mine.”

And I know.

I know what my wolf has been trying to articulate all week, what my heart has been feeling every time I saw him in the distance, what I didn’t dare to hope each night I dreamed of his eyes.

My mate is finally within reach, and I nearly ran again. Turning, I collide with his gaze once more, surprised by how close he is. I can hear his heart beating in his chest, his perfectly smooth and broad shoulders rising slightly with each breath.

“I feel as if I know you, yet nothing about you at the same time.” His words, spoken in a deep silky voice, remind me that this wolf is a stranger. An entirely mysterious and possibly dangerous one, even if he is my mate. “What is your name?”

His question startles me, though I should have been expecting it.

“A— ah, it’s Ella,” I stutter, and withhold my full name. After all, who knows what this wolf’s intentions really are? If I’ve learnt one thing in all my short life, it’s to not trust anyone. Especially someone as devastatingly beautiful as this. “And yours?” I boldly meet his eyes after dropping mine for a moment of relief from the stormy waves that crash about me from his intense gaze.

His jaw clenches, and I realise he too is about to hide something from me. I don’t know why I feel disappointed with that idea.

“My closest friends call me Mal.”

I nod, unsure what to say next, yet feeling perfectly comfortable with our silence.

Then his arms are around me, and his face hovers only inches above my own. Encased in a warmth I could rest in forever, I glance between his eyes and lips. Is he going to kiss me? Do I want to be kissed? It feels so right and wrong at the same time, setting my heart on fire and my face heating up with just the thought. I can see each flawless freckle on his pale skin, as my senses magnify his beauty and strength from this close up. Dark eyelashes frame such crystal clear blue eyes, and brush delicately against his cheek as they flutter closed for an instant. I wonder what it would feel like to run my tongue over his skin and—

My thoughts and his next move are interrupted by a loud crash of snapping twigs through the underbrush.

“Mal? What’s going on?”

I am pushed away, and see another wolf standing not ten feet away, a stormy expression on his face. He too is familiar, but I don’t have time to place the memory before my mate glares at me, his entire demeanour changing from warm summer rain to an icy winter storm in a single moment.

“You crossed the border,” he growls, forcing me backwards with the sheer intensity of his voice. I fall down to my rear as my feet trip on loose stones.

The waters of the stream swirl around me, yet its cold fingers are nothing compared to the ice tearing into me from my mate’s gaze. I should have known the warmth and belonging was nothing but a fantasy, which has now ended.

“I-I—“ My throat is dry as blood once more drains from my face.

The two wolves advance on me with deadly threats rumbling from their throats, and this time I do run. After picking myself up from the icy water, I shift into my dusty brown wolf and run.

Never once turning back, I manage to find my way home though my vision is clouded with tears and my heart is devastated with rejection.